Finding Ourselves
by Katarina Rain
Summary: Steve has become increasingly distracted since the day Bucky rescued him from the water. Nicky Fury allows him time off in a new apartment in D.C. Steve resents living in the present and wishes he and Bucky could just be together like the old days. He spends his time trying to re-live the 40s and goes out to find his friend. StevexBucky. Fluffy/Funny. PTSD. Future sex scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, everyone! This is my first story I've shared with FanFic since 2010. It's great to be back with a new account!**

**The plot is set after CA: TWS and Steve is still with SHIELD in Washington, DC. All he can think about is the possibility that Bucky is still out there and that they can be together again. Because of this, he's become extremely distracted. Steve's given time off to find himself (and Bucky.)**

**Planning for moments of PTSD, fluff, and some very funny old man moments. Enjoy!**

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Even after everything had quieted down on the news and life had seemed to have moved on, Steve was still fixated on the idea that Bucky was still out there somewhere unknown. What especially ate at him was the memory of being dragged out of the water that day by who he knew to be the enemy now.

"_Why would he do that if he didn't remember me?" _

Steve whispered this to himself, frustrated that he could not make sense of this awful situation. It's one thing to lose decades of time, but to lose your only best friend? He clenched his teeth and exhaled, annoyed.

"Why don't you take some time off, Cap? We'll call you back when something interesting happens around here…"

Fury had noticed how Steve had become increasingly more distracted since their last mission. He figured he had earned some time off. After all, the guy was still trying to cope with 70 years worth of scientific advances he missed out on when he was asleep. For once, Fury felt kind of guilty.

Steve was only half listening when Fury had said that. He had still been dwelling on what Bucky did for him, long before the conference had begun. And not once during the meeting did Steve make full eye contact with Nick Fury. He was too busy sketching a profile of his old friend mixed with his new enemy… Lighter pencil, a distant memory of a fresh faced, eager eyed young man. Hair neatly cut and swept back, lips slightly curled up, a small dimple peaking through. The lines on this side were not forced, but still managed to piece together someone respectable and good hearted. The glint in his eyes spoke of a future that we hoped for, that he himself fought for. The other eye, however, was peaking through dirty, grown out locks. His brow furrowed and thick black smudges framed his cloudy eye; war paint. A pained scowl formed at what seemed to be the same mouth. This time there was no dimple or any light. Messy lines and smudges made up this side of him.

This couldn't be the same man; it was physically impossible, right?

But it was…this is what the war does to you. Takes something innocent and pure and loving and mistreats it, takes dreams away while simultaneously making the public dependent on an imaginary man.

Steve took in a sharp breath, his heart jumping at the thought that there was hope for Bucky; that maybe his soul wasn't completely electro-shocked out of him. But then his brow furrowed and his fists clenched when he remembered what the war, let alone HYDRA had done to some of those soldiers…

"Cap." Fury said curtly, catching Steve's attention.

Steve's head whipped up, being forced back into the present.

"Time off?" He raised his brow, actually stunned by the notion.

"Yea…" Fury started out, but then coughed and crossed his arms, narrowing his only visible eye at Steve, "Unless you want to start rescuing cats outta trees, Rogers."

For once, Fury was faking the tough guy attitude. But Steve wasn't in a very heroic and noble mood; he was too mentally far away for that.

"Right…uh, time off is good. Maybe I can finally get myself a hobby…" he breathed a small laugh and scratched the back of his head.

"Well don't come back until you've knitted me a new patch." Fury was clearly joking when he pointed to his covered eye, yet his voice still remained sharp as he left the meeting room.

Hardly even hours later, Steve was given a new single bedroom apartment provided by SHIELD just outside the capitol. His friends back in New York knew he was taking time off, so Tony and the rest of the team continued living in Stark Towers without him. And even though they let him have his space, Natasha and Bruce were the only ones who really understood the need for time alone. Fortunately, they were able to convince the Avengers to keep all contact with him to a bare minimum and only for emergencies.

At first, Steve was restless; unable to grasp at a memory of a time he wasn't working his ass off trying to be a hero, even before the serum. Because even before that, Steve had spent his past time with Bucky trying to be just as good as him in everything they did. Bucky was Steve's one and only role model. There were of course the physical aspects that Steve always admired in his best friend, practically brother, but it was his personality that made Bucky a man in his eyes. Steve wanted to be tall, strong, and maybe even handsome…but he wanted more so to keep being good hearted and courageous and well respected for once in his life.

Now that Steve was everything his old self desired, all he could do was revert back to the past. Books of Steve's young adult years were easily attained but they weren't as he remembered; most of them were new versions that irked Steve, but not as much as the originals that were so badly aged it made him cringe. Music he liked was just as easily found on the Internet, but Steve made a point of taking time to visit local music shops to pick up some _vintage_ (that word burned Steve) records and a phonograph from a dusty antique shop just outside town. It was run by a kooky old lady who would go on and on about the old days. She seemed to have all her marbles, God bless her, but she just would not shut up.

"Oh it just makes me so happy that a nice young man like you appreciates all these beautiful pieces. Did you know, this phonograph was first invented by Thomas Edison in the 1870s, but we still used them in my day!"

"I know, I had one just like it in the 40s," Steve accidentally blurted out.

_Dammit, _he thought to himself.

"Oh you're funny too! You know my husband, Charles, used to tell stand up comedy when we first dated. Oh, what a guy! I love him so much…"

_Thank God._

Somehow, Steven managed to get out with his "new" phonograph in little under two hours.

Steve had spent a good month by itself trying to replicate the past with all these now-old gadgets that any person of the 40s would be lucky to have. The only thing Steve had to convince himself to keep out in the open was the cell phone given to him by SHIELD back when he first was thawed out. Though, more recently, its been mysteriously getting "lost" in the back of the sock drawer.

But what he did showcase was every detail of his pre-serum life he could possibly get his hands on. And with a little help from Agent Coulson, he even managed to get _some_ of his old photographs. Having those really put the finishing touches on his replica life. The only thing missing was his best friend.

"Bucky," he said to himself quietly, sighing. He was holding a picture they had taken together at Coney Island one summer. Steve noted how frail he looked, but nonetheless happy to be in good company. He didn't have the strength to carry the weight he had on his shoulders now, but then again he didn't really need that strength, because he was too carefree.

Steve huffed, putting the photo back on his bookshelf. When Coulson sent some of his old things in the mail, there was a small note attached to the back of that particular frame. It read:

"_Try the Smithsonian again, Cap. Maybe you'll find more answers this time. _

_Good luck,_

_Phil"_

_The Smithsonian? _Cap thought to himself a bit peeved as he quickly stirred up the "U-bet" chocolate syrup in his egg cream.

"They only glorified what the serum did to me!" He smacked the glass down on the table, his strength causing most of the seltzer to bubble up out of the glass and onto his favorite checked shirt.

He made a low, but audible grunt as he cleaned up the mess. After peeling out of the stained shirt, he begrudgingly finished the tiny sip left in his cup and went off to his bedroom.

"Fine. But it'll have to wait until tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Steve's first week in the apartment was not easy on him. He always had a slight bit of anxiety about being in a new place. He spent a good portion of the first night staring up at the ceiling fan making slow circles above his bed. Later, he began daydreaming about the good old days…back then, he and Bucky started renting an apartment in Brooklyn shortly after his mother died. Sure, it had pests and sometimes it got real cold for Steve, but it was easier when Bucky was there to lighten the mood.

He thought about all the trouble he caused back in the day. A small smile caught on the corner of his mouth subconsciously. Steve was and is truly fearless in that sense…living alone in an apartment like that wasn't impossible _per se_. However, it did get tiring for him to act that way all the time; always having to prove his worth. When he was home with his friend, he could unwind. Bucky didn't need him to prove anything, because he knew Steve better than Steve did. Bucky never admitted how charming he found his friend's efforts to be. Of course, he didn't admit to a lot of things, but Steve had inklings about why Bucky took care of him so much. He knew acting on such concepts was taboo, so Steve accepted Bucky's care as innocently as possible. But the thing is, Steve didn't just appreciate it, he enjoyed it.

Sometimes he'd get real bloodied up in a fight to the point where he had trouble staying conscious. Bucky would take the spitfire home and clean him up; hold him in the shower and rinse his wounds out, wrap him up and lecture him on letting it heal right before getting hurt again. The kid had no parents, for God's sake. So Bucky took on a sense of responsibility for Steve's life. Over years and years of putting him back together again, it became routine. It gave them each an unspoken sense of stability when Bucky would hold Steve through bitter winter nights. It was innocent at first, the space between them remaining as chaste as the cold allowed. However, as time went on, they moved closer together and held each other tighter, Steve's face usually nestled against Bucky's chest.

_He's just keeping me warm_, he'd think to himself when he found himself daydreaming a little too much about being wrapped up in his friend's arms. He always worried he was pushing his luck when summer came around, but the two of them always managed to keep cozy somehow.

Steve suddenly felt a pang of jealously for his weaker self. At least he had friends outside his line of work…Well, he really did appreciate having people that cared about him in 2014 though. Each of The Avengers were unique and amused Steve. Even that hot shot Tony who thought a little too highly of himself turned out to be a decent guy when push came to shove. The problem about The Avengers is that they weren't looking to keep Steve company during the long night. After all, they had no reason to keep each other warm or out of trouble. Technology like JARVIS kept them comfortable more than 90% of the time.

The best way to describe how Steve felt was lonely, he supposed. In his mind, it seemed a little pathetic for a genetically engineered super solider. Also, he feared Natasha's accusations of him being a "grumpy, old man" were starting to come true.

"Enough is enough," Steve shot up out of his bed and went to pull Coulson's note out of his jean pocket.

"I gotta find him."

…

The Smithsonian Museum was nothing short of magnificent, inside and out. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of years of history all stored under one roof. Levels and levels of actual, tangible evidence of countless animals, ancient civilizations, cultures, toys, planes, you name it…it was so much more than the online encyclopedias people recommended to Steve. He simply couldn't understand the appeal of reading misleading text written by those who like to re-write history a little too much. It made his skin crawl that people actually believed some of the garbage they read online. Meanwhile they simply pass by this beautiful structure housing a myriad of evolution and innovation. It was a damn shame, but he felt lucky to enjoy its presence and hopefully get some answers as Coulson promised.

Steve decided to dress casually for his visit, in timeless pieces. After all, no one could really argue with a pair of Converse high tops, khaki colored pants, and a regular t-shirt, right? He figured it wouldn't draw a ton of attention from regular people, but it would still remain recognizable to Bucky. That is, if Bucky would show up as Steve really hoped in his heart. Coulson didn't come up with that idea, as far as Steve knew. So he knew he really shouldn't be expecting to see his old friend there. However, that didn't stop Steve from believing in the possibility he may get him back.

Steve got into the museum without any hassle at all and he wasn't sure if it was because they had a good staff or people were being nice to him because they recognized him. Either way, Steve was just happy to be one step closer to his exhibit. He felt his heart beat getting faster when he went through the corridor and heard the heroic loop soundtrack of his time. The sound of his blood pumping in his eardrums almost met the tempo. Steve had been here once before. The first time brought on some anxiety knowing the museum knew every little detail about him…Of course they would, but the main title of the exhibit isn't usually alive to see that, right?

Right.

He began watching one of the mini documentaries presented in one of the museum's theatres. Admittedly, Cap found it pretty difficult to keep still when all he wanted to do was run up to a service member and yell, "Have you seen my best friend, Bucky? He's about yay big, has long brown hair and needs a good shave? He's kinda messed up and he needs me to help him!"

But he knew that probably wouldn't go over well considering they think Bucky's long gone, having been lost forever in the snow that day. When in reality, that was the start of all this madness. So Steve forced himself to be patient and watch the rest of the program because he thought that it was the right thing to do. As he was filing out of the theatre, he grabbed for the crumpled piece of paper he stuffed in his pant's pocket.

"What do I do Coulson? It's not like the milk man is just gunna deliver Bucky to me all wrapped up like a Christmas gift!" Steve started muttering to himself as he stared at the note, reading it over and over again.

"Wait… no, 2014 doesn't have milk men... Dammit! Well "The eBay" or whatever Clint calls it isn't gunna deliver him either…So I'll just keep circling in here like a damn idiot until-"

Steve smacked right up against a person because he was so busy mumbling to himself. He was actually shocked; he usually had better reflexes nowadays.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, fella. I didn't mean any-" Steve looked up to meet a pair of cloudy blue eyes that were fixated on him.

"Bucky?" He gasped, his mouth gaping open at the sight of him. He looked dirty, but he was wearing new clothes for sure. He wore a dark hoodie and a pair of inappropriately seasoned winter gloves to hide his metal arm. His hair was tied back, but pieces managed to fall out and stick to his heavy scruff.

"…Steve…" Bucky looked down, struggling to say his name with any ounce of confidence. His memory had been erased countless times so he never really had reassurance in anything that wasn't the words "mission" or "kill."

Steve couldn't help but smile and grab Bucky into a hug. But Bucky ripped himself away, a look of horror in his eyes.

Steve realize what he had done and tried to make up for it. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it! Bucky, I gotta take you home to the apartment. I'm gunna help you!"

But Bucky backed up into a glass case, sliding down to the floor when he heard that last part. Zola had said those words to him and then he ended up losing his arm. A lot of horrible memories were starting to burst at the seams of his brain. Bucky started hyperventilating, ripping at his hair and whimpering like a hurt animal.

"Bucky! Look at me," Steve crouched down to his friend's level on the ground.

"I'm not gunna hurt you, Buck. I'm your friend, don't you remember? Look all around you, it's us!"

Bucky looked up at the screen showcasing the friendship of the heroic Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

"They were unstoppable, fighting for the sake of the good people of the United States of America!" A narrator's voice said, proudly.

Bucky's breath was still shaky, but calmed down a lot. "H-how? What y-year is it? You were my enemy! But now, this place is telling me otherwise…I don't understand. I know you, but you were my mission," he started rambling and pointing at the screen and getting upset.

"Shh, shh Bucky it's ok. The year isn't important yet. I have to help you understand a lot. I want to help you…I miss you so much, Buck, ya got no clue! Please, just let me help you. I want to bring you back to my apartment and clean this mess up once and for-"

"Uhh…Excuse me, sir, but we just announced that the museum is closed so you and your friend have to leave now," a female officer said to the men crouching on the floor.

Steve looked up and the girl was schocked. "Aren't you Capt-"

"Shh shh!" Steve started whispering, "Yes, but I need you to keep quiet, ok?"

Steve shot her the woman a debonair smile.

"Um…uhh, yes, sir!" She suddenly stiffened up. "The museum will open again tomorrow at 9am, haha…I think I'm gunna go now, heh. Have a good night, Mr. Captain America, sir."

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**Your reviews are encouraged and much appreciated! Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Steve makes a dad joke. That is all. **

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Getting Bucky up and outside the museum was the simple part. Steve walked in front, checking behind him every once in a while as Bucky followed behind like a lost puppy. He so badly wanted to run home and make up for all that lost time, but he knew anything he said or did around Bucky would be like walking on eggshells. So, he thought it'd be wise to over explain every thing he planned on doing to help.

Steve listened closely to Bucky's footsteps behind him. When they stopped at a cross walk he looked back with kind eyes, "I'm really happy we found each other, Buck. I miss you."

Bucky looked up Steve, furrowing his brows and nodding ever so slightly at him.

"Listen, Buck, like I said before…I want to help you remember, ok? I want to clean you up and get you some food 'cause you look so damn skinny. Have you been eating, Buck? Ya gotta eat something when we get back to my apartment. Maybe you'd like some chicken broth. Remember you used to like-"

Bucky was wide eyed, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden speech Steve was making. Steve only noticed when his friend started backing up a bit.

"Oh…ah, I'm sorry. I just talk too much when I'm nervous, huh?"

Steve breathed a laugh and Bucky seemed to relax a bit. When the pedestrian light turned green they continued along the wet sidewalks of DC. The only form of light radiated from the tall, black lampposts some of which flickered and buzzed causing Buck to dead stare each of them as he passed.

All the while, Steve listened for his friend behind him. Each step, each time he cleared his throat. He listened mostly for any signs of stress that he had and when Steve detected something wrong he remembered to reassure his friend.

"You're in good company, Bucky. I promise you."

Steve also made sure to stress the use of Bucky's name. He made a conscious effort to drill that idea into his head in hopes it would make him remember something.

Before he knew it, Steve reached the ten story, tan apartment building. It was relatively young…younger than Steve of course. He remembers Fury telling him it went up in the 70s and then was remodeled a bit after a bad storm in the mid-90s. Even still, Steve did what he could to make it as familiar as possible for both himself and his friend. It certainly wasn't Brooklyn, but it was something.

"We're here, Buck. My apartment is in number 704 so it'll take us a few minutes to get up there," He turned to face Bucky who awed at the structure like it was the first time he's seen such a thing.

Steve sighed to himself, guessing it was the first time he remembers seeing an apartment building as common looking as this one. The only difference between this one and all the others in town was that it faced the White House so Steve could be there first hand if need be.

"This is gunna be a lot of work," Steve thought to himself still watching the brunet analyze the place.

"Hey, Buck?"

The man looked at Steve with piercing eyes and did not reply.

"Do you like stairs or the elevator better? The stairs might take a few minutes but that's ok, 'cause we're still going to the same place and I suppose we got all the time in the world, huh?"

Bucky frowned, almost looking guilty for remembering something.

"Stairs…?"

Steve smiled at him; happy he was being honest.

"That's fine by me, Buck. Whatever makes ya feel more comfortable."

As they two men started for the stairs, Bucky started to process what Steve had just said to him.

"Comfort…" He thought aloud, not noticing when Steve gave him a small, hopeful smile.

The mere concept of comfort confused Bucky, because such a thing did not exist with HYDRA. The closest thing to comfort was the mouthpiece they shoved in him before they'd electroshock his born identity out. One could assume that was why the straggly haired man always kept his mouth tight and gritted…because he truly didn't want to lose himself. However, that wasn't always an option for him.

But the problem is that he's lost his identity so many times it's become increasingly more difficult for him to distinguish fact from fiction. The only fact he knew now was that the tall blond man before him existed somehow and at some point in his life prior to HYDRA's mission. He tried to measure up the time he's lost and failed over and over. He realized Steve would need to explain all of that to him. So for now, he thinks he will try to trust him.

The exhibit claimed that he and Steve were by each other's sides from very early on and that Steve wasn't always this solid, towering man. In fact, the exhibit claims that he used to be the bigger guy in the friendship. Also, he didn't have this damn metal arm he hates so much. More often than not, he'd find himself comparing his prosthetic arm to his flesh arm and feeling a lot of anger. For him, the metal arm represented everything that was wrong with him. It was cold and unnatural and made killing all the more simple. He'd gone 50 years, whether he realized it or not, using that hand to slaughter. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew he had an ocean's worth of blood because of that horrible surgery.

More recently, Bucky remembers sitting under a bridge in town trying to claw the bionic arm off his body during one of his anxiety attacks. Shortly after taking a knife to his arm he thought he might bleed out without it. So he forced himself to keep it despite how he felt. Instead, he wore any article of clothing he could steal to cover it up and keep it out of sight. He hoped he could just blend in and hide from the people who made him this way. He wasn't sure if they were still around or not.

"702…703…704. Ah, here we are. That took no trouble at all, Buck."

Steve reassured his friend that it was ok to take the long way for his sake despite the convenience of taking the elevator.

Bucky was brought back to reality when he heard Steve's keys jingle against the door.

"Yes."

Bucky hoped his response made sense considering he wasn't paying attention to what Steve had just said.

Steve unlocked the door to the apartment and turned on the lights. Inside, there were beige walls and honey colored wood floors. Steve had bought a red and gold area rug recently and kept it under the round coffee table in the living room. Two brown seats were around the table, one love seat and one reading chair with a ratty old quilt thrown over it. Bucky squinted at the quilt, wondering if he'd seen it before.

"I moved in about a week ago so I'm still trying to figure out where everything should go," Steve began as he entered the apartment.

He went on the explain the basics of the place.

"Well it's just me living here so it's pretty small…the parlor's right here as you can see. I got some old pictures of us as kids, I can show ya in a bit. One of my buddy's from work managed to snag it for me…"

Bucky followed Steve and nodded when he'd say something.

"And my bedroom is right over here on the left. I got some cherry wood furniture from this antique shop. The lady kinda reminded me of our old arithmetic teacher…a real piece of work," he laughed to himself.

He led Bucky toward the small, baby blue bathroom. The tile was made up of small squares and looked grimy no matter how many times Steve tried to clean it. "The shower's great, Buck. Hot water never seems to run out and the pressure's nice since I fixed it up."

Steve was genuinely proud of being able to do little things like that.

"Oh my God, Buck! You gotta check out the ice box. It's huge!"

Bucky jumped when Steve shouted and pulled his flesh hand toward the little yellow kitchen.

"Honest to God, Buck, I could fit a whole turkey in there and still have room for more. I mean, look at this thing!"

Steve opened up the freezer section of the Frigidaire and icy air started blowing in Bucky's face. He scrunched up his face, taking his head back, and scowling at it.

"Ugh, it's cold."

Steve snorted at his friend's obvious statement.

"Well you keep ice in it, Buck. I guess you could say it's pretty cool."

Steve giggled at his own joke and Bucky just dead stared him confused, not really enjoying his pun at all. He coughed, realizing his friend wasn't going to understand all the things he would say.

"Yep, this is going to be interesting…"

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**What do you guys think? Your opinions are encouraged and greatly appreciated! Have a great day. :)**


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